I wish I could make music like this. Music that parades the illusion of stillness to the idle on-looker. Music that, in actual fact, celebrates the very impossibility of stillness, cherishing the tiny fluctuations in frozen guitar drones and field recordings. Not only that, but this is music that appreciates
How To Cure Our Soul
The chord is never correct. It squirms and mutates forever. Frequencies burrow into silence like earthworms; others wriggle into audibility in their place. Can we call the 25 minutes of “Aurea” a continuous drone when it so actively decays and rejuvenates itself, like evolution sped up a trillion times over?